Some flaw had been discovered in them, or was suspected, and it was likely to give the office some trouble, which would fall on Bede's head. There they lay inside the desk, just as Bede had placed them in the morning, with the paper-weight upon them; detained at Westminster until a late hour, he had not been to his desk since. Reminded by his father to destroy the cheque--useless now--Bede thought he would do it at once. But he could not find it. Other papers, besides the title-deeds, cheque, and chequebook, he had placed within, and he went carefully over them all, one by one. Nothing was missing, nothing had apparently been touched, but the cheque certainly was not there. He searched his desk in the front office, quite for form's sake, for he knew that he had carried the cheque with him to his private room. "One would think you had been drawing out the deeds," remarked Mr. Greatorex when he returned. "I can't find that cheque," answered Bede. "Not find the cheque!" repeated Mr. Greatorex. "What do you mean, Bede?" Bede gave a short history of the affair. He had been in a hurry: and, instead of staying to put the cheque and chequebook into his cash-box, had left them loose in his table-desk with the title-deeds and sundry other papers. "But you _locked_ your desk?" cried Mr. Greatorex. "Assuredly. I have only unlocked it now. The cheque would be as safe there as in the cash-box." "You could not have put it in, Bede; it must be somewhere about." "I am just as certain that I put it in, as I am that it is not there now." Mr. Greatorex did not believe it. Bede had been for some time showing himself less the keen, exact man of business be used to be. Trifling mistakes, inaccuracies, negligences, would come to light now and again; vexing Mr. Greatorex beyond measure. "I don't know what to make of you of late, Bede," he said after a pause. "You know the complaints we have been obliged to hear. These very title-deeds"--putting his hand on those just brought in--"it was you who examined and passed them. One negligence or another comes cropping up continually, and they may all be traced to you. Is your state of health the cause?" "I suppose so," replied Bede, who felt conscious the reproach was merited. "You had better take some rest for a time. If----." "No," came the hasty interruption, as though the proposal were unpalatable. "Work is better for me than idleness. Put me out of harness, and I should knock up." "Bede," said Mr. Greatorex, in a tone of considerate kindness, but with some hesitation, "it appears to me that you get more of a changed man day by day. You have not been the same since your marriage. I fear the cause, or a great portion of it, lies in _her_; I fear she gives you trouble. As you know, I have never spoken to you before of this; I have abstained from doing so."